Repercussions
by That Tath
Summary: Elladan and Elrohir’s need for revenge would drive them to hunt orcs for years, but everyone ranging from Rivendell to Mirkwood would be affected. A collection of stories about the twins’ orchunting years.
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer: None of the characters are mine.**

**A/N: Okay, I'm getting this out of the way in the first chapter- The only way that these stories are connected is through the fact that they are all about the effects that the twins' obsessive orc-hunting have on them, the people of Imladris, and their friends and family in general. I will most likely not be writing longer versions of any of these stories, so don't expect a "Part Two" in the next chapter(s). Also, these are not necessarily in chronological order, just so you know.**

There are some things that Elrond knows he will never forget. He will never forget the sight of his sons bringing back their beaten and tortured mother from the orc den, not even if he lives to see a hundred thousand centuries. He will never be able to forget the pain and heartbreak they went through during that year, and then after she sailed.

Elrond had seen his sons sneak out a few days ago to hunt orcs. This in itself was not anything new' they had often ridden out with the Rangers to help them deal with a particularly large or violent group of the creatures. However, this was the first time they had ridden out since their mother had sailed and he knew that they weren't hunting because they needed to. They were hunting for revenge.

Not that Elrond could really blame them for it. If he was younger and wasn't the lord of Rivendell he probably would have left long before they did to hunt them. It still worried him to think about how they could be in the middle of a fight, their rage blinding them. They could easily make a mistake and then-

No. He wasn't going to think about that. He was going to have faith that Iluvátar was going to bring his sons out of this- that they were all going to be brought safely out of this. And in the meantime he would wait for his sons to return and try not to worry or think about everything that could go wrong.

But there were so many things that could go wrong. One of them could make a mistake in the battle, or they could be distracted by their twin's fight. They could be poisoned or severely injured and too far away for him to help them. They could be simply overwhelmed or be ambushed by the orcs.

"My lord?" Elrond sighed and shook his head. It seemed like everyone here was trying to distract and, while he appreciated the effort, it got rather tiring after awhile.

"Yes, Erestor?" He asked, turning around to face his advisor and friend.

"There are some new papers that you need to look over, perhaps you should come inside and start reading them before dinner is served."

Elrond shook his head. "No, I think I'll stay outside for a little bit longer." He said, turning back to look out towards the gates.

"They'll be alright." Erestor said, leaning on the railing with him. "They are good warriors; they know how to fight a group of orcs. Worrying about them is not going to do anyone any good. They'll come home in a few days."

Elrond smiled. "I know, mellon nin, but I'll worry just the same until they do come home safe."

XXXXX

Elrond was once again leaning on the balcony, watching the gates. He yawned slightly; the many nights spent catching up on the work he was neglecting during the day was obviously starting to take a toll on his strength. He should probably get some sleep soon. After all, he didn't have a lot of work left to do…

The faint sound of the gate opening caused Elrond to jerk up, instantly awake. His eyes flicked to the gate, where he could just make out two figures riding into Rivendell. He jumped up and silently made his way down to the courtyard, wanting to see how his sons were.

They had just dismounted when Elrond reached the courtyard. Instead of rushing out to greet them though, something held him back. There was a dark, rust-colored stain on Elladan's tunic and similar smears were on Elrohir's leggings. The light from the quarter moon glinted on the knives hanging from their belt, showing that they hadn't been cleaned. The twins glanced towards the house, allowing Elrond a brief glimpse at their faces.

What he saw tore at his heart.

He had seen them return from patrols or minor skirmishes, tired but still in a relatively cheerful mood. Now, however, they were simply exhausted. How they managed to remain standing was beyond him; it looked like they were both on the verge of collapsing. There was also no trace of any sort of happiness on their faces. Their eyes were cold, filled with hate and a need for revenge.

When they passed by him on their way to the stables, Elrond silently drew back farther into the shadows. Right now they needed to rest; they didn't need their father fussing over them. There would be time for that later. They needed to heal, but when that would happen he did not know. The thirst for revenge was still strong in them. It would be awhile before they could put that aside and move on.

If they could move on.


	2. Black Demons

**Disclaimer: Any recognizable characters are not mine. **

**A/N: I was trying to go for a darker, sort of creepy, chapter for Halloween. This is the second idea that I came up with (the first one was way too confusing so I'll have to revise it before you guys can read it).**

"Normally I wouldn't ask you to take this, but I don't have any men that I can spare. If you could just take a look at it…"

"We'll look around," Elladan promised. "Now, you mentioned something about "black demons"…?"

The Chieftain of the Dúnedain took a puff on his pipe and nodded. "Aye. The people on the outskirts of Bree have mentioned seeing black demons roaming the countryside. Supposedly, they'll attack anyone caught out at night, but people can never find them during the day. Some people think they're orcs, other think the wights have risen from their barrows. Either way, something needs to be done about it."

"We'll start out first thing in the morning," Elrohir said. "I agree with Elladan; these black demons sound too much like orcs for them to be left alone."

XXXXX

Elladan sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "So tell me again what you saw."

"I'se tellin' ya, thar be d'monsss out thar." The man stopped to take another swig of ale. "Big black things." He motioned with his arms what he meant. "Kill'd me sons horse, they did. Nearly kill'd him too."

"Elladan, we aren't going to get any more information out of him," Elrohir said softly. "Our best bet would be to hide near where all the attacks are and wait to see what happens."

Elladan sighed again, but nodded. "You're right, gwador nin," he said. "It would be nice to know more about them-"

"Someone go get the healer! Bram's wife was attacked!" The gatekeeper's voice cut through the air and the town came alive instantly. The twins left the slightly drunk man where he was and joined the crowd around the gates, their hoods completely obscuring their elven features.

"Move aside, move aside. What happened exactly?" The healer asked as he finally arrived.

The woman seemed to be in a state of shock and wouldn't say anything. One of the men standing near her said, "We found her beaten 'longside the road, sir. She looked mighty bad so we brought her here straight away."

The group around the woman fell silent, while the crowd's conversations grew louder.

"I'm telling you, they're orcs-"

"-Need to get rid of them."

"Who's going to be taken next?"

Elladan and Elrohir slipped away from the crowd and made their way back to their camp. "This sounds like the work of orcs," Elladan growled as he began throwing things in his pack.

Elrohir's eyes flashed dangerously. "I know, gwador nin," he replied. "We need to get over there before they attack another person." Elrohir finished packing up and stood up. "Hurry up. We'll eat on the road."

XXXXX

Elladan and Elrohir were hidden by the side of the road, waiting for another attack. Under normal circumstances, it would have registered that there were better ways to find whoever were behind the attack, but the memories of finding their mother chased away any logical thought. When they had nearly given up hope of there being another attack this month, they heard the sound of hoof beats, followed by a loud yell.

The Sons of Elrond jumped out of their hiding places and raced down the road to the source of the commotion. When they arrived they saw a man being pulled off a horse by some dark beings. Without stopping to think about what they were doing, they pulled out their swords and charged towards the crowd.

The black beings fled before the elves, but one of them tripped and fell. Elrohir reached him first and placed his sword near his throat, while Elladan followed the rest. The being looked up at them and Elrohir was shocked to see that it was merely a young Man. "Elladan, they're just villagers!" Elrohir yelled to his brother, so he wouldn't accidentally kill one. In no time, Elladan returned, three of the villagers walking in front of him.

"You four are going back to Bree," Elladan growled. "Now."

One of them looked like he was about to protest, but a few glares from the others convinced him to keep his mouth closed; they knew it probably wasn't a smart idea to get on the bad side of people with weapons- especially when they had none. Elladan and Elrohir began herding the villagers along the road, making sure that none of them could get away.

After a little while of walking in silence, one of the villagers spoke up. "If ye don't mind me askin' why can't you just let us go now? We won' attack no one no more."

Elrohir glared at him. "Do you even realize how close you came to being killed back there? You're luck to even be alive! We're taking you to Bree and telling them that you were bandits. No more arguments."

The Sons of Elrond set a quick pace, one that was slightly fast for the bandits. They wanted to drop them off in the town as soon as possible. Although they didn't show it in front of the men, they were ashamed of the way they had reacted to the situation.

The sun was just rising when the group reached Bree. Elladan banged on the gate.

"What d'ya want?" The gatekeeper asked.

"We found these four bandits attacking a young man on the road. The man disappeared after the bandits scattered, but we caught them," he explained. "We thought we should bring them."

The gatekeeper opened the gate. "Well, I'll bring them to the jail," he said. He knew the twins and trusted their judgment. "Are you two stayin' for the trial?"

Elladan shook his head. "No, we need leave. We heard some of the townspeople talking about a group of orcs last night and we need to see if we can hunt them down."

The gatekeeper nodded. "Thank you for bringin' these four in anyways," he said.

The twins simply nodded and walked away. When the gates had shut behind them Elrohir spoke up. "We nearly killed them," he said softly. "We didn't stop to think about whether they actually were orcs. We relied on a few bits of gossip and nothing more." He shook his head. "We nearly _killed_ them, gwador nin."

Elladan sighed. "I know Elrohir. I don't know what I would've done if you hadn't warned me. We were so caught up in our revenge, that we didn't even realize that this wasn't a group of orcs at all."

"What if it happens again, Elladan?" Elrohir asked softly. "What will we do if we don't realize our mistake until it's too late?"

Elladan closed his eyes, trying not to think about what would happen. If they didn't realize their mistake... "We would be murderers," he finally said. "And we can't let that happen."

Elrohir nodded. "We're going to need to stay away from other people," he said. "We'll have to tell the Rangers that we can't look into things like this anymore. It's too dangerous."

Now it was Elladan's turn to nod. Without saying another word he set a swifter pace away from the town. It was too dangerous, too risky, to stay there any longer.

**A/N: Hmm, not sure if I managed to capture what I was going for. I was trying to make it a bit creepier, yes, but also establish a reason as to why the twins would have needed to avoid towns (an idea that will become more pronounced in later chapters). I also needed to establish the idea of them becoming consumed by their rage and anger, until they almost didn't know what they were doing (something else that will become important in later chapters). So, overall, how did I do on this chapter?**


	3. Snow

**Disclaimer: None of the characters are mine. **

**A/N: I am SO sorry for the lack of updates! I was busy with NaNoWriMo (which I won!) and I scrapped two of the chapters I was working on because they weren't working. I have another chapter nearly completely finished, since I was working on it awhile ago, but waiting for December to post it. I'll try to update ASAP from now on. Also, this chapter was written for the MCI Forums December challenge. You had to write it from Elrond's POV and have it revolve around snow. **

For a long time, Elrond was of the opinion that nothing was better than Rivendell in the winter. Sure, spring was pretty when everything started to grow. And summer was always nice with the warm, long days, while the trees in autumn looked beautiful. But none of those seasons could compare to winter. In winter the entire valley seemed to be peaceful, quiet, and untouched. The air was clean and crisp outside and the new fallen snow would crunch as it was walked on. Icicles hung from the roof of the Last Homely House, glinting in the sunlight.

After he married Celebrían the two of them would always walk through the gardens. She loved the snow almost as much as he did and they would stay outside for hours at a time. As young elflings, Elladan and Elrohir would always have snowball fights outside. When Arwen was born, they would always play with her in the snow. During the other three seasons he just had to think of winter to be reminded of how much his family loved the winter and snow.

But when Celebrían was attacked by orcs, everything changed. That winter Celebrían didn't enjoy the snow; in fact, she barely seemed to notice it, even if she was outside. Elladan and Elrohir didn't use the snow as an excuse to act like immature elflings; they were more serious than Elrond could ever have remembered them being. Not that he could blame any of them. He couldn't enjoy the beauty of that winter either. It seemed wrong to him that something could be so lovely after what had happened to his wife.

After Celebrían sailed the winters were never the same. Whenever he looked out into the gardens he could see his wife walking through them. He tried to take a walk outside, but it just hurt to realize that he would never walk through the gardens of Rivendell with her again. His sons were always hunting orcs and Arwen was in Lothlorien, so he was the only member of his family left in Rivendell. During the other seasons he couldn't think of winter without missing how it used to be.

And now he had another reason to dislike winter: Hypothermia.

He sat by his sons' beds, watching them sleep. They had been found buried in the snow by one of the patrols. He didn't know how long they had been there, but considering how cold they were they must have been there the majority of the night. And if it wasn't for the fact that both had rather nasty wounds they probably would have made it to Rivendell.

When the patrol had carried them through the gates Elrond was shocked. He had seen his sons come home with various wounds, but at least he could tell that they were alive. At first he didn't know whether or not they dead; they looked dead, but he couldn't believe. He refused to believe it. It was such a relief to find out that they weren't dead, but even though they were alive that didn't mean that they would stay that way. Thus began the careful task of trying to warm them up before they died and, after that, working on the wounds that they had.

He had tried not to think about how they could die as he worked, but with them just lying there, completely frozen, it was very hard. He couldn't believe that he had ever loved the snow. How could he love something that had nearly killed his sons? Something so beautiful shouldn't be so painful and harmful. It was backwards, twisted; it didn't make any sense.

He knew that if he had to blame anything he should be blaming the orcs. After all, it was the orcs that had attacked his wife, causing her to eventually sail. It was the orcs that kept his sons away from home and he was willing to bet that it was the orcs that gave his sons the wounds that forced them to try to return to Rivendell with the threat of snow. Yet despite all of that he couldn't help but blame the snow for nearly killing them.

And in that moment the little bit of him that still loved winter, despite the pain he felt when he remembered winters spent with his wife, withered and died.

**A/N: Okay, it's short. And not really about the twins' hunting orcs. But it is about something else that Elrond has to deal with because of them hunting orcs. I hope my readers are at least partially satisfied by this chapter and I promise longer ones will come.**


	4. Winter Thoughts

**Disclaimer: All of the characters are Tolkien's. **

**A/N: Well, this is longer than the last. ;) I hope you enjoy the holiday themed one (and actually on time for once). **

The cold winter months were usually Elrohir's favorite time of the year. He loved the white blanket of snow that covered the ground, making everything seem new and different. Yet this year, like so many years in the past, there was no peace and calm in the winter months. This year was the same as all the others; the cold days spent hunting the dark creatures with his brother and the Dúnedain.

He was sitting in camp, having spent the day tracking a group of wolves that seemed to be heading towards one of the human towns. They had caught up with beasts not far from the settlement and quickly killed all of them. After sending out a few Rangers to find a spot to set up camp, the carcasses had been burned.

Elrohir stared at the crackling fire, lost in his thoughts. It was only a few days until Midwinter. The Hall of Fire would be almost completely decorated, with holly and evergreen spread throughout the room. The fire would seem even brighter and warmer than usual, after spending a day outside enjoying the snowfall. Most of the elves of Imladris would be there, celebrating the longest night of the year. Everyone would be swapping stories with each other and getting caught up on recent events. There would be singing, music, food…

Elrohir buried his head in his hands and tried not to think about that. Once again, the Sons of Elrond would be absent from the festivities, since it was highly unlikely that either one of them would be able to make it back in time.

Rivendell… How long had it been since he and his brother had returned there? They had been with the Rangers for a few weeks now. Elrohir could picture his father waiting for their return, hoping that they would make it back soon and uninjured.

_When did it get so bad?_ He wondered. _Was it right after Naneth sailed, or did it progress? When did it get to the point where we stopped caring about when we returned to Imladris?_ To Elrohir, it seemed like the only times they ever stopped by their home was when they needed to rest or were injured. _When was the last time we stopped by just to let _ _Ada__ know that we were alright? _

"Elrohir?" His brother's voice startled him out of his thoughts. "You looked upset; what were you thinking about?" Elladan sat down next to him and stared at his twin.

Elrohir didn't answer right away. He didn't know how to phrase his thoughts. How did he tell his brother that he wanted to stop the hunt; that he just wanted to go home for the sake of going home? "It's Midwinter in a few days." He finally said. "When was the last time we were home for the Midwinter festivals?" He turned to his brother. "When was the last time were home?"

Elladan didn't respond to that, but Elrohir wasn't expecting an answer. The two of them sat in silence for awhile, watching the fire flicker in the dark night. As much as Elladan hated to admit it, his brother was right. They had been so caught up in their revenge they had completely forgotten about their father, their home, everything. Yet now, with no signs of any orcs roaming the lands, maybe, just maybe…

"If we leave now, we may be able to make it back." Elladan said softly, glancing over at his twin. "Of course, there wouldn't be time for any long stops, but we may make it back in time for Midwinter."

Elrohir stared at Elladan. Out of all of the response he had imagined, that had not been one of them. His twin had always been dedicated to the hunt, never wanting to stop for any reason unless absolutely necessary. The fact that he was now willing to return to Rivendell for no reason other than he wanted to go was shocking. The fact that he hadn't already said something along the lines of "Only for a few days." was a miracle itself.

Elladan started to laugh softly at the look on his brother's face. He was surprised at his reaction; how long had it been since he had last laughed? Elrohir was shocked at his reaction as well, but only for a moment. The sound of the two elves' laughter drifted through the camp, causing the Rangers to pause and look over at the Sons of Elrond.

After the laughter died down Elladan glanced over at the Rangers, their faces clearly showing their surprise at the elves' laughter. There was a slightly uncomfortable silence, yet the moment held more curiosity than anything else.

"We must go." Elladan's words were short and simple, yet they had so much emotion in them, more so than any other sentence he had said all night. His gaze left them and he turned back to his brother.

The look on Elrohir's face told him he had caught the mix of sadness and joy that his words had contained. Although Elrohir tried to hide it, Elladan could see that he too was feeling the pain and sadness of finally realizing that they had been avoiding Rivendell, yet his eyes were also filled with the pure joy and happiness of spending the longest night of the year with their father and friends once more.

"If we're going to make it back to Imladris by Midwinter, we really do need leave now." Elrohir said, his voice breaking the silence that continued to stretch between them.

Elladan just grinned and grabbed his pack. He walked over to his horse and waited for Elrohir to join him before leading his horse away into the dark woods. The Rangers watched them leave, all of them completely silent. Finally, one of them asked the question they were all wondering, "What was that all about?"

Elladan and Elrohir pushed the horses hard for the next few days, stopping only when necessary. Their horses seemed almost as happy as their riders to be returning to Rivendell and would willingly go as fast as they could when given the chance.

It wasn't long before it was early on Midwinter day. The twins led their horses swiftly through the forests, hoping to make it home in time for the celebrations. They were so close now, they should make it. They slowed down their horses a bit while they entered the valley so they wouldn't injure themselves.

"Mae govannen." A familiar looking golden-haired elf rode up next to them. "May I ask what brings you to Rivendell?"

Elladan turned to look at Glorfindel and was surprised to see a look of genuine curiosity in his eyes. _Of course he wouldn't be expecting us… _He thought_. But for Valar's sake, he watched us grow up! He should remember us! _"I'm hurt Glorfindel. You didn't remember us?" He pushed his hood back and grinned slightly, although the expression didn't mask the sad look in his eyes.

Glorfindel blinked. "Elladan?" He felt slightly guilty for not recognizing him. "What are you doing here? Is one of you hurt?"

_Is everyone going to assume one of us is injured just because we came back?_ Elladan wondered. "No, neither of us is injured." He continued with his explanation before Glorfindel could ask the next question. "We just thought we would join you for Midwinter this year."

"I see." Although he would never admit it, he was extremely happy that they had returned to be with their friends and family for Midwinter, not because of an injury. "Shall I ride ahead and tell your father you are coming?"

"No, please don't." Elrohir said. "I think it would be better if this was a surprise."

XXXXX

Elrond sighed and looked out over Rivendell. He had left the celebrations, which started early in the evening and would continue until the early hours of the morning. Even though he knew that his sons wouldn't be coming, he still couldn't help but hope that for some reason they would still show up.

The last time his sons had been at one of the celebrations was only because Elrohir had been injured days before Midwinter. Neither of them had come to a celebration simply to be with their friends and family since before their mother had sailed.

"Elrond?" The voice startled him a bit and turned to see who was behind him. "Why don't you join the festivities?" Erestor asked, coming to stand next to Elrond. "It is still early in the evening; perhaps they will come."

The fact that Erestor could clearly tell what he was thinking unnerved the elf lord more than he would like to admit. He turned to his friend and had to smile a bit at the concerned look on his face. "You go back Erestor. I'll be along shortly."

Erestor hesitated, but nodded and walked back into the Hall of Fire. Elrond turned towards the gate again, fully intending on watching to see if anyone would come through it in the next few minutes.

His watch was disturbed by the soft sounds of someone walking behind him. He rolled his eyes and turned around to tell Erestor that he was just about to head back inside. However, it was not Erestor standing behind him. Instead, he was staring at two identical looking elves, two very familiar identical looking elves.

"Happy Midwinter, Ada." Elrohir said softly.

Elrond was speechless. Although he had been hoping for his sons to return, he had never thought that they actually would make it back in time. He had waited and watched for them, yes, but he had never actually thought they would come. _Unless one of them was wounded…_

"Are either of you hurt?" Elrond asked, stepping closer to them, completely intent on inspecting his sons for injuries.

Elladan winced, remembering Glorfindel's reaction after realizing who they were. "No Ada, we are both fine." He said. "We just wanted to come home for the Midwinter festival. We've missed you."

A huge smile broke out on Elrond's face. He had not really expected them to return for the Midwinter festival and he had never thought that they would return simply because they wanted to. "Well, there are many people in the Great Hall that would like to see you," he said. "Let's go in. We can talk later."

Although the hall fell quite as the family walked in, the noise level soon rocketed as everyone began talking at once. They were all as shocked and surprised to see Elladan and Elrohir there as Elrond had been. The two of them spent the rest of the night joking and laughing with their friends and the other inhabitants of the valley.

Elrond watched them, slightly withdrawn from the festivities, a soft smile on his face as he watched the worried and tired looks one their faces slowly be replaced by geniune grins. Nothing made him happier than to finally have them home for Midwinter and watching them actually enjoy themselves. It was the perfect end for a less than perfect year and he wouldn't have asked for any other Midwinter gift.


	5. Brothers

**Disclaimer: None of the characters are mine**

**A/N: So, as I promised ElvishKiwi a few weeks ago, this chapter focuses mainly on Arwen and her brothers. It was a lot harder to write about her reaction to everything than I thought it would be, but I have done my best. Enjoy!**

Arwen sank down onto her bed, letting out a small sigh. Her brothers were getting ready to leave Lothlorien, but she couldn't go down to see them, not after their last conversation. She didn't want to face them after she had all but driven them away, something which she now regretted doing.

Elladan and Elrohir had arrived in Lothlorien a week or so ago, having just finished killing a small band of orcs they had been tracking for a couple of days. It was the first time she had seen them in many years and the sight of them both scared and shocked her. They were filthy, with about three fourths of their bodies covered in orc blood, dust, and grime. It looked like they hadn't washed in days, certainly not since the battle.

However, what stunned her most was the look on their faces. It was partly exhaustion, but that was to be expected. What wasn't expected was the look of grim triumph on their face, a look that still held a slight echo of bloodlust and a need for revenge. And that small glimpse at what they were becoming scared her more than the way they looked.

Yet when she finally had a chance to talk to them, after they had thoroughly cleaned up, they still seemed like her brothers. They both embraced her in huge hugs, asked how things were going, and what she was up to. They spent much of the afternoon talking about various things, though the topic of their naneth and orcs never came up.

Arwen could tell that they weren't entirely at peace here though and she could understand why. Even in Lothlorien there were still moments when you could see Celebrían everywhere. It was a different sort of sadness then she had felt at Rivendell though. At Rivendell everything held echoes of her mother, but here you were only reminded of her because of her parents, or perhaps of recalling memories of childhood visits here with her.

It was obvious that they were trying not to scare her. They would avoid certain topics around her and, if someone else brought them up, they did their best to control their emotions, though they would always get that glint in their eyes. Yet there would still be times when they would just vanish and Arwen suspected that they were talking to some of the patrols about the orc population in the area. All in all, the surprise visit was very pleasant.

That is, until a group of orcs came too close to the border.

Elladan and Elrohir rode out early in the morning, before Arwen had woken up. She wasn't even concerned about where they were until she heard someone mention the group of orcs that had been spotted. The rest of her day was spent worrying about them and wondering if everything was alright. Yet another part of them was angry at them, angry at them for constantly running off to fight orcs and tearing themselves apart by their need for revenge.

When they finally returned, Arwen was glad to see them. She didn't know whether she was happy that they were alive or whether she wanted to yell at them, but she was glad to see them nonetheless. At least, she felt that way at first. Then, she saw them up close and both of those feelings were swallowed up by one of complete sadness.

Arwen had been shocked when she first saw them. They were filthy and they had that _look_ on their face. It was nothing compared to how they looked now. Every inch of them was covered in blood, dirt, dust or some combination of the three. Yet it was the look on their faces that scared and angered her the most, just like when they first arrived. Only now, it was a thousand times worse than before. Before, it only held echoes of what they were feeling. Now, however, the emotions were still fresh. Arwen could see the slightly mad glint in their eyes, though it was covered up by the revenge and bloodlust and- her blood ran cold- a hint of _joy_, like they enjoyed what they were doing.

Elladan turned around and saw her standing there, just staring at them. "Arwen-" he began, but she turned and fled up the stairs before he could finish his sentence. And so, few hours after they had returned, and after they had washed up and calmed down a bit, Elladan and Elrohir made their way towards their sister's room. They had expected to have to explain things to her, and where prepared to do so, but Arwen started off the discussion in a very different way than they had thought.

"You can't keep doing this," she said softly. Her quiet voice hurt them more than if she had been shouting at them. "You're tearing yourselves apart! You're tearing your family apart! Ada is always so vague in his letters, and now I know why. You two are always worrying him. You're distant and cold. You're completely wrapped up in your revenge and bloodlust. It's tearing you apart!"

"And what are we supposed to do?" Elrohir burst out, though his voice was quiet like hers. "Just stay at home and do nothing? Do you know what it's like staying in Rivendell? Naneth is everywhere there. You can't walk through the house without thinking of her!"

"At least this way we can actually do something," Elladan added. "We can actually do something to-"

"To what?" Arwen snapped. Her brothers recoiled slightly, as if she had slapped them; they had never heard her sound like this. "To hunt orcs until you die? To feed your need for revenge for the next few millennia?" Her voice softened slightly, but it was obvious that she was still angry and upset. "Are you two really so wrapped up in the hunt that you're willing to destroy yourselves? How far is this going to go?"

Without saying another word, Arwen walked past them and left her room, leaving her brothers to stand there, her last words echoing in their ears.

At dinner that night they had announced that they were leaving the next day. While they didn't come out and say it, Arwen knew that they were leaving because of what she said. To her, it was the only reason why they would suddenly decide to leave. And so, the next morning while her brothers were getting ready to leave, Arwen was sitting in her room, regretting every word she said to them. For awhile, she was debating whether or not she should go down to say goodbye to them. Finally, she made up her mind; she would say her goodbyes, even though her brothers may not want to see her.

Elladan and Elrohir were just about ready to leave when Arwen came down. "Thought you'd never get here," Elrohir said teasingly.

Elladan must have seen the look of surprise on her face because he laughed and said, "We couldn't stay upset for long. You are our little sister after all. We care about you Arwen and you were right."

"We can't end the hunt now," Elrohir said. "We just can't. However, we promise that we won't let the hunt destroy us. One day we will stop hunting orcs, we swear will."

Tears glistened at the corners of Arwens eyes as she threw her arms around her brothers, never wanting to let go. She didn't know how they would fare while on the hunt, but she knew that they wouldn't let it destroy them. It could come close, and she knew that in all likelihood it probably would, but they wouldn't let it destroy. And one day, though she didn't know when, they _would_ stop.

And Valar knows it would be all she would ever need to get her through the days while her brothers were hunting.


	6. A Brother's Blood

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything.**

**A/N: So, something a bit new for me. Not only am I writing about Elladan instead of Elrohir (Elrohir is my favorite of the two) but it's also one of my first times including Aragorn. Written for the MCI Forums January challenge, but I didn't finish it in time (plus it didn't really fit the criteria for the challenge). Oh, and I, along with quite a few people, view the twins and Aragorn as brothers, so that's how I refer to them in this.**

It was completely silent in the forest. The dark sky was splattered with stars and the moonlight drifted down through the trees in odd patterns. A slight breeze blew through the branches, causing the leaves to whisper softly as they brushed against each other. Yet as beautiful as the night was, one being was oblivious to everything.

He ran through the forest, his feet making no noise as they hit the ground. On any other night, at any other time, this elf could have been running home after a day out, or perhaps chasing one of his brothers in a lively game. Yet this wasn't just any other night and he wasn't playing a game. As the elf ran he told himself that he wasn't running away out of fear or cowardice, he was running away to save people's lives.

_He kept his pace slower than he usual, but fast enough to keep Aragorn on his toes. Still, he had to focus on making sure that he didn't harm his brother. If he let his mind wander away even a bit, something that wouldn't be too much of a problem if he was practicing with Elrohir, he could speed up too much or slip into using moves that Aragorn didn't know. If he made either of those mistakes he could seriously hurt his brother. _

_Yet there is a fine line between focusing on a mock-fight and being oblivious to everything else._

_Someone let out a loud shout fairly close to Elladan. He was so focused on his fight that the sudden sound caused him to jump slightly and divert his attention away from his brother for one moment. Aragorn used this diversion to try to gain the upper hand in the fight, but his plan didn't exactly work. Elladan could see his brother coming at him out of the corner of his eye and just reacted._

_When he had first started training he had been taught to react if someone was attacking, but only to block, not kill. After all, his instructors had told him, if he was fighting in a group what happened if one of his allies had attacked him by mistake? Yet he had spent so many years fighting orcs with just his brother that this early lesson became warped until it was just his instinct to at least wound when someone came at him. And so he spun around, his sword flashing in the sun…_

_And cut his brother on the arm. _

Elladan continued to run away, trying to escape from the memory. If he closed his eyes he could still see the blood running down his brother's arm. He could see the look of shock and pain on his face. Elladan could see the blood glistening on the edge of his sword.

His brother's blood.

_Elladan dropped his sword on the ground and stared at his brother. Aragorn had fallen to his knees after the sword sliced into his arm and Elladan knew that his brother was in pain. He tried to go help him, but he was frozen in place. Blood was starting to seep through his brother's fingers, despite his attempts to stop the flow. It was smeared on his arm, a stark contrast to Aragorn's skin._

_Elrohir rushed over and began to inspect Aragorn's wound. "This is deep," he said. "Too deep. We have to bring you back to Ada right away." Elrohir quickly bound the wound and helped Aragorn to his feet._

"_I'll run ahead and warn Ada that you two are coming," Elladan said softly. He wanted to do something to feel like he was helping. _

"_Good," Elrohir said. "Do something good for once, why don't you?"_

_If Elladan had been looking in Elrohir's direction he would have seen slight grin on his face that showed that he was only joking, trying to lighten the situation a bit. However, Elladan and already turned to go back when his brother had spoken. He stiffened as he heard the words, believing they were intended cruelly._

_Elladan ran back to Rivendell quickly and passed the message onto his father before leaving, acting like he was returning to help Elrohir and Aragorn. Instead, he turned into the forest and began to run away from the people he had hurt. _

Elladan didn't know how long he had been running for before he collapsed on the ground. He just lay there, panting, trying to forget what had happened. He couldn't go back to Rivendell; he couldn't face his family, not after he had seriously hurt his brother. He knew that his years spent hunting orcs had changed him, but he hadn't thought that it had changed him that much. He hadn't thought he would ever lose his focus and hurt his brother.

He lay there for what seemed like an eternity, completely oblivious to the damp ground or the soft rain that had begun to fall. He didn't notice as the sky slowly lightened as dawn approached and he didn't hear the soft sound of a horse's hooves approaching. He didn't move as the horse stopped in front of him or as its rider dismounted. It was only when the person knelt down in front of him did he finally move, and that was to shift slightly away from the hand that reached out to him.

"Elladan," Aragorn said softly. "Look at me." Elladan didn't respond and to the young Ranger it looked like he shifted away from him more. Aragorn sighed; he knew that Elladan was going to be guilty, but he didn't expect him to be this bad. He reached out and cupped his brother's chin in his hand and turned his face, forcing the elf to look at him. "Elladan, I am fine," he said. "Come, let us return to Ada. He's very worried about you."

Elladan shook his head. "I can't," he said. His eyes landed on the bandage on Aragorn's arm, the white cloth standing out against the Ranger's skin.

"Why not?" Aragorn asked. "I am fine; you know Ada wouldn't have let me come out here if I wasn't." In fact, Elrond didn't want the young Ranger to go out at all, but Aragorn had convinced him that he would have the best chance of convincing Elladan to return. He had followed his brother's trail into the forest, extremely glad that the elf didn't take the time to hide his trail. Once he realized that his brother's path was just a straight line, he began to travel faster. He had found his brother after only a few hours of searching, but at this point he thought that it may take much longer than that for him to convince Elladan to return.

"I hurt you," Elladan said softly. "I close my eyes and all I can see is your blood on my sword. And Elrohir…" He took a deep breath. "Elrohir is angry at me. Didn't you hear him before I left?"

Aragorn shook his head. "Elladan listen to me. I am fine. And Elrohir isn't angry with you; if you hadn't been so worried about me you would've realized that he was just trying to lighten the mood." His brother didn't respond. "Look, you can't stay out here forever," he said. "You don't have any supplies, weapons, or clothes with you. You wouldn't last out here."

Elladan still didn't respond. He knew his brother was right, but he still felt extremely guilty about what had happened. The two of them sat in silence for a moment before Elladan finally spoke up. "I'm as bad as them," he whispered, finally voicing the thought that had been plaguing him for much of the night.

Aragorn frowned. "As bad as who?"

"The orcs," Elladan said. "I got distracted, wrapped up in the fight. I fought to kill; I fought to kill against my own brother! It-"

"It was a stupid mistake," Aragorn said firmly. "Listen to me- you are not like them. You don't kill for fun, you kill because you have to. You may have made a stupid mistake by hurting me, and if you want to punish yourself when we return go right ahead. But think about this- if you were really fighting to kill, that cut would have gone through my neck, not through my arm."

Elladan thought about that for a moment. Aragorn was right, he knew he was, but he still feel guilty. Aragorn sighed. "Look, just come back with me. If Ada or Elrohir is angry with you I will personally help you escape before they can kill you." Elladan let out a soft chuckle of laughter at that, causing Aragorn to grin. "See, you don't really want to stay out here. Let's go back."

Elladan sighed. "Alright," he said as he stood up. "But I'm going to hold you that promise you made. I hope you have an escape plan ready because if Ada or Elrohir really wants to kill me you're going to have a hard time stopping them."

Aragorn grinned. "Oh don't worry, I have something worked out…"


	7. When I'm Gone

Disclaimer: So, I don't own any of the characters (but then again, I think you know that by now

**Disclaimer: So, I don't own any of the characters (but then again, I think you know that by now.)**

**A/N: -cringe- Okay, okay, I know. It's been about two months since I last updated this and for that I must apologize. The chapter I was working on kind of died and between my busy schedule and lack of ideas I just couldn't write anything. **

**And yes, I know I promised ElvishKiwi a chapter with the Rangers, but like I said, it just died and then I got this little idea. I figured you'd appreciate an update, even if it wasn't about the Rangers, and even if it is a bit on the short side. **

_Dear Elladan,_

Elrohir paused and frowned. That had been the easy part of his letter. He didn't know how to say what he needed to, though he knew that if he didn't write this out now he never would and he would regret it later.

_If you're reading this, then the worst has happened and I am dead. _

That was the reason he needed to write this letter out. There had been too many near misses, too many times he had almost died. He couldn't die without explaining things to Elladan, but he knew that he might not be lucky enough to have time to do that. That was where this letter came in. He would keep it with him at all times, just in case. When he died, if he died, his brother would find it in his pack and be able to read it. Elrohir hoped that it might help bring his brother a little bit of comfort if that day ever came.

_I'm writing this in hope that if you should ever have to read it, it will help you through this difficult time. I can't imagine what you're going through right now, muindor nin, but if it's anything like I expect I would feel then heart goes out to you. _

Elrohir didn't know how his brother would react if he were to die, but he could make a good guess, based on who he would react if Elladan were to die. If Elladan were to die… Elrohir took a deep breath. If Elladan were to die there was no doubt in his mind that he would follow him soon, whether from a stupid mistake in a fight to avenge him or simply from a broken heart. Their bond was so strong he wouldn't stop hunting the orcs that had killed him until he himself was dead as well.

_Elladan, I know you as well as you know yourself. I know that the first thing you're going to do is try to avenge my death. Elladan, do you remember the first time we fought orcs after Naneth sailed? You know as well as I do that we were so consumed by our hatred we nearly lost the fight; it was pure luck that we managed to kill the orcs and nothing short of a miracle that we didn't kill ourselves in the process. _

They had never told their father how close they came to accidentally getting themselves killed during that fight. They had fought blindly, madly, without actually thinking anything through. They fought anything that crossed their path without hesitation, killing it quickly before moving on to their next victim. That's what the orcs were- victims, not opponents in the battle. The twins killed them viciously and they would've enjoyed it, if they had been focusing on things a bit more. As it was, they were in shock that they had made it out of there alive.

_I know I can't stop you from trying to avenge me, but please, Elladan, don't the hunt kill you. I know I can't convince you to stop hunting, but please, at least remember how much you have to live for. Think about Adar and Arwen. They've already had to let Naneth sail and by the time you've read this they would have lost me as well. Imagine what your death will do to them. It would crush them, Elladan, it would completely crush them. Think about Naneth too. She's waiting for her family to join her in Valinor. She's lost one son already- do you want her to lose two?_

Elrohir knew that the easiest way to get his brother to listen to him was to make him feel guilty about any plan that he had formed. If he did that, then with any luck Elladan will at least be smart enough to make sure that he didn't get himself killed during any battles he might get in. It was too much to ask that Elladan give up hunting altogether; Elrohir knew that if Elladan were to die he wouldn't give up hunting no matter what a letter from his brother might say. Still, if he could convince Elladan to not try to get himself killed in battle then that was enough.

_Elladan, if nothing else, please, just keeping living for me. Enjoy life enough for both of us, or hunt orcs enough for me, since I can't anymore. Don't give up everything you have just because I'm not there anymore. Instead, keep enjoying and doing the things that I will never be able to do again. Think of me when you ride, when you hunt, and when you're with you're friends in the Hall of Fire. Think about me, remember me and smile at the memories, but please, keep living Elladan. _

_In the end, I supposed the choice is yours and I can't do anything to change that. Still, please, Elladan, listen to me. Listen to me and don't let yourself fade. And always remember, no matter what you choose, that I love you Elladan and I will always be with you, no matter what happens. _

As Elrohir was signing his name, the door to the healing wing in Rivendell, where he was confined while he was healing, opened and Elladan walked inside. Elrohir quickly tried to hide the letter, but he wasn't fast enough; Elladan had already seen it.

"What's that?" he asked as he walked over and sat down on the edge of his brother's bed. He leaned over his brother and tried to grab the letter, but Elrohir pulled it away.

"It's just a letter," he told him. "And you can't read it yet."

Elladan raised an eyebrow. "Yet?"

Elrohir could've kicked himself. He hadn't meant to include that little word at the end and now, knowing his brother, he wasn't going to stop pestering him about it until he got an answer. "Yes, 'yet'. Maybe, one day, you'll read it, though with any luck you won't ever have to. And no, I'm not going to explain that any further." Elrohir continued before his brother could ask any other questions. "I'll explain everything to you another day."

Elladan frowned, but just nodded. If his brother needed to keep things to himself, then he would let him. Valar knows there were many things he was hiding from Elrohir, some of them things he was not proud of, but many of them just simple, everyday secrets.

Such as the letter he always carried around in his pack…


	8. Life Goes On

Disclaimer: I don't own any of recognizable characters, only the OC's (AKA the Rangers)

**Disclaimer: I don't own any of recognizable characters.**

**A/N: I guess you could say this is my way of dealing with the seniors about to graduate in just over a month. I'm going to miss them so much, and this was just sort of a combination of Middle Earth and those emotions. Eh… not happy about the ending, though.**

The Sons of Elrond were not unaccustomed to death. After all, they had killed countless numbers of orcs, hadn't they? They had seen the lifeless corpses scattered across the battlefield, before they gathered them up and burned them, that is. Even before they had hunted orcs, they had killed various animals in the forests surrounding Rivendell so the cooks would have fresh meat. No, Elladan and Elrohir had seen death before, yet there was something decidedly different about it this time.

Perhaps it was because they weren't the ones who had done the killing. They had simply been bystanders; two people that fate decided should meet this human- nothing more. On the other hand, the difference may have come down to the fact that the deceased was not a creature that deserved to die, nor an animal that needed to be killed for its meat. No, he was simply a Ranger, a good man, someone that still had so much to live for.

The Sons of Elrond knew that none of those reasons were actually why this death had hit them so hard. No, the real reason was simply that, in their mind, there was no reason. Aneirin hadn't been injured in any recent battles, nor had he been poisoned. No one in the camp had tried to kill him themselves; all of his men loved and respected him. There hadn't even been some unfortunate accident that would account for his death. His men had simply gone to wake him up in the morning and found him dead.

The body had been brought back to his family that day. They had buried the body right away, for fear that the smell would overwhelm the camp or attract wolves, but the patrols had only started to return to pay their respects a few days ago. The main camp, which had been, for the most part, empty was now bustling with many people. Women were preparing food outside in large summer fire pits, preparing for a feast later that night when the Rangers would gather together to remember Aneirin and to honor their new Chieftain. Children ran about everywhere, sweeping or gathering wood, when they weren't busy neglecting their tasks in favor of playing games with their friends. The men were discussing strategy, patrols and, like everyone else, remembering Aneirin, while setting up their tents and cleaning recent kills.

In the middle of this organized chaos, looking very out of place, were Elladan and Elrohir.

They hadn't known the old Chieftain that well; they had just started to work together with the Dúnedain and hadn't really gotten to know anyone yet. If they hadn't needed this alliance so they could have help with some of the larger groups of orcs they would have avoided the Rangers all together. Yet here they were, in the middle of the main Ranger camp, trying to figure out what they were supposed to be doing. The men in Aneirin's patrol had asked them to stay so they could continue planning how to tackle a particularly difficult group of orcs, but the Rangers had neglected to tell them what to expect or do before they could start planning again.

The two of them had kept their promise though and hadn't left, but as more patrols came in they retreated farther and farther away from the center of the camp. Unfortunately, it seemed that the edges of the camp, where there were fewer people, were the "playing fields" for the children, the place where they would play catch or tag. Although it was amusing to watch the young ones come skidding to a stop when they finally saw the elves concealed in the shadows of the trees, the Sons of Elrond weren't in the mood to take advantage of the situation and it wasn't long before the two of them were forced to retreat to the top of a large oak tree in order to escape the hustle and bustle of the Ranger community.

Before they had started hunting the two of them would have exchanged jokes about how undignified it was for two of the Lords of Rivendell to be forced into the treetops by human children. It wasn't that they didn't find the situation amusing; on the contrary, under normal circumstances they would have almost certainly cracked a joke or two, no matter how awkward, if only to try to lighten the situation. However, they were so distracted by their thoughts of Aneirin that neither even thought of breaking the silence that had fallen between the two of them.

"It's just illogical." Elladan finally broke the silence.

Elrohir stopped staring at the branch in front of him, and looked up at his brother, a frown crossing his face. He was expecting his brother to say something soon, but his comment made no sense. "What's illogical?" He asked.

"The fact that we're getting so upset about Aneirin's death!" Elladan exclaimed. "He was a good man, a good Ranger, yes, but we barely knew him. Why are we so upset about the loss of a human we barely knew?"

Elrohir didn't answer. Truth be told, he had been wondering that exact same thing. His brother was right; it didn't make any sense for them to be so upset over the loss of this one human when they didn't know him at all. Human's die, they knew that. So why did this death hit them so hard?

"I think it's simply because we had met him," Elrohir said slowly. "We knew him enough to know that he was a good person, someone we would have wanted to get to know better. It's not because we were close friends with him, but we're going to miss his presence. We're going to miss just seeing him around, or being able to talk strategy with him." Elrohir's voice trailed off. To be perfectly honest, he wasn't sure how to put his thoughts into words, but when he saw his brother nodding in agreement, he knew that Elladan had picked up on the essence of what he was talking about.

For a few moments, they once again fell silent, but, once again, Elladan spoke up first. "Do you regret working with the Rangers?" He glanced over at his brother as he talked. "If you could go back, would you still decide to meet Aneirin?"

Elrohir hesitated. What would he decide? He didn't want to get close to any human, if it only meant that he would have to lose them one day. On the other hand, he knew that they needed to work with them, but beyond that, he honestly wanted to get to know them more, learn about why they're so different from the Eldar. Finally, he answered his brother. "If I could go back, I wouldn't change my decision. I would still meet Aneirin, even if it meant having to deal with the pain of his death." He took a deep breath. "And I'm willing to continue working with the Dúnedain, if you are."

Elladan just smiled at him. "Same for me," he said softly. "Same for me."


	9. Split

Disclaimer: I don't own the twins (though I wish I did)

**Disclaimer: I don't own the twins (though I wish I did).**

**A/N: Wow! Sorry for not writing in AGES! I've been busy in another fandom, posting stories (with permission) on a friend's account, since my sister would tease me mercilessly if she knew what fandom I was writing for. Anyway, sorry again for not writing for awhile, but I'll try to update this sooner. **

"I'm telling you, there's no way we would be able to catch up to them," Elrohir said in between bites of his food.

"And I'm telling you that the thought of two elves _not_ being able to overtake orcs- who, need I remind you, have to stop during the day when we don't- is laughable!" Elladan replied hotly.

The two brothers scowled and glared at each other from across their fire. They had been having this same discussion for the past few days but they weren't any closer to coming to an agreement than they were when they started. This argument had been sparked by news that a fairly large group of orc had been spotted moving west. Elladan had wanted to follow them immediately, overtake them, and kill them. Elrohir, on the other hand, had wanted to return to the Rangers, like they had been planning, to see if any could be spared to help them; he thought there were too many for them to safely manage on their own.

At first, the orcs' path headed in the same general direction of the Rangers' camp, so they two of them didn't need to make any hasty decisions. It was becoming obvious, however, that the orcs were slowly turning away and heading more south-west than north-west. The two brothers needed to come to some sort of agreement that night because in the morning they would have to choose one trail and one trail only. They would either need to go get reinforcements or try to handle it by themselves; they couldn't do both, since if one went to get reinforcements the other would overtake the orcs before help arrived and would have to face the group on their own.

Elrohir knew his brother was being extremely stubborn that night and chose his next words wisely. "Do you really think that the two of us would be able to kill off all of them by ourselves, muindor nin?" He tried to keep his voice even in hopes that it might help Elladan calm down and think rationally.

Elladan laughed. "Why, you don't think we can?" He asked. "And I thought you were more confident in our fighting abilities, Elrohir!"

Elrohir sighed. _Is this what Adar feels like?_ He wondered humorlessly. _Always having to deal with us refusing to listen to reason, no matter what the situation may be?_ He continued to keep his voice calm, though it was hard to do so; he knew that yelling at his brother might cause him to do exactly what he did not want him to do. "We are extremely outnumbered in this situation, Elladan," he said cautiously.

"We've been outnumbered before," Elladan reminded him.

"But not this badly!" Elrohir said, the frustration in his voice barely disguised. "It's true we are extremely skilled fighters, but against these odds it's all but certain that one of us is going to get hurt!"

"We've gotten injured in battle before as well," Elladan pointed out.

"But with these odds, there is a better chance of both of us getting injured or getting of one or both of us getting injured more than once!" Elrohir had dropped his calm façade. If his brother wasn't going to listen to his voice of reason maybe he would listen to him if he yelled a bit. "If one or both of us sustain serious injuries we would have no way of treating them! We do not have enough supplies to treat them and last us the long journey back to the Rangers' camp! That is why we need to go there first, so there is less of a chance of getting injured and so there would be more people to help should someone get injured anyway!"

"But if we try to go to the Rangers' camp we will definitely never overtake the orcs!" Elladan countered. "Besides, all you've presented me with is "What if?" situations which may not even happen at all!"

"But they could still happen!"

"Yes, they could," he admitted. "But that doesn't mean they will! On the other hand, it is guaranteed that if we return to the camp first we will never overtake the orcs, which is why we can't waste time going to get help that we might not even need in the first place!"

"It is also guaranteed that when- not if, _when_, because we are far too outnumbered to get out of this unscathed- one of us gets injured they will not survive the trip back to civilization!" Elrohir reminded him again. "Which is exactly why we must go back to the camp!"

Elladan just shook his head. He couldn't understand how his brother could be so thickheaded! It was obvious, to him at least, that they needed to pursue the orcs right away. Contrary to what Elrohir was saying they had been up against odds like this before and if they slowly picked off the sentries or stragglers they would have a better chance of defeating the entire group once they finally engaged them in battle, a strategy which he had suggested earlier on in the night. Yet Elrohir continued to insist that they should waste time and he couldn't understand why.

"Have you forgotten why we hunt orcs?" He snapped. "This group is more than large enough to do that to someone else, or multiple people!"

"Don't you dare bring that up!" Elrohir yelled. "You know that's not why we're arguing about this so don't even think that that's why I won't help you!"

Their small camp was completely silent after Elrohir's outburst, both of them thinking about what had been said and what they would need to do. Finally, Elladan spoke. "Elrohir, I don't want to argue with you anymore," he said curtly, thoroughly annoyed with his brother.

"I don't want to argue with you either, but it's not like we can decide on anything civilly!" Elrohir snapped. Suddenly he seemed to deflate and Elladan almost felt sorry for the stress his brother must've been feeling- except he was still mad at how stubborn he was being. Elrohir sighed and said, "Look, why don't we don't just talk about this in the morning?"

Elladan just nodded and the two of them retired for the night. Elrohir was asleep within minutes but, try as he might, his brother wasn't quite so lucky. He was still thinking about the confrontation from earlier. He could see why his brother didn't want to fight the orcs when it was just the two of them; even he had to admit that the odds might not have exactly been in their favor but they could still handle it! He tossed and turned most of the night as he tried to figure out what to do. Should he, once again, try to convince Elrohir that they needed to attack? Should he, against his better judgment, follow Elrohir to the Ranger camp? He just couldn't decide which route was the best to take.

When Elrohir woke up the next morning he didn't want to get up. He didn't want to start another argument with Elladan, but he knew that as soon as they started trying to figure out what to do they would start arguing again. He sat up, rubbed his eyes, and glanced over to where his brother should have been. With a jolt he realized that Elladan wasn't there- and neither was his pack or bedroll. He threw his blanket to the side and scrambled up. There were faint tracks leading towards the South towards where the orcs were supposed to have been heading. On the ground there was a scrap of parchment with a hastily scrawled note on it:

_Elrohir, I'm sorry but you know that going after the orcs is the right thing to do. I'll pick up any Rangers that are scouting in the area and we'll use the plan I mentioned to you to destroy the orcs. I'll meet you back at the camp in two weeks, if not sooner, though of course you're welcome to catch up to me sooner._

Elrohir bit back a snarl when he read the note. He could almost hear the sarcastic tone of voice his brother would've been using if he had actually said this to him. He was shaking with anger as he crumpled the note in his hand. Elladan didn't actually need his help; he just left the note so that Elrohir wouldn't assume the worst. He hurled the note into the words and spun around, hastily throwing his few belongings together in his pack.

If Elladan didn't need his help then he wasn't going to get it.

With that thought he slung his pack over his shoulder and disappeared into the Northern part of the woods.

**A/N: For the record, the next chapter **_**will**_** have a bit of a sequel or continuation to this. **


	10. Reunion

**Disclaimer: I don't own the twins, sadly.**

**A/N: Okay, to the point. Sorry for the delay, sorry for how short it is, and in theory you should be getting more updates soon. Onward with the story!**

Lightening flashed through the sky as another rumble of thunder sounded in the distance. Elrohir sighed and pulled back from the window. Elladan was out in that storm somewhere and instead of helping to look for him Elrohir could do nothing but sit idly by the fire and wait for the Dúnedain to return.

After finding Elladan's note nearly a week earlier, Elrohir had set out immediately for the Rangers' camp. Unfortunately, after only about a day away, the rain had begun. In a moment of distraction Elrohir slipped and broke his arm. He made it to the Rangers' without any other problems and the bone was quickly and efficiently set, but he was in no condition to go out and look for Elladan, especially since he would only be a liability if they had to fight the orcs.

The Chieftain had sent out some of the Rangers to look for Elladan, but that did little to help ease Elrohir's guilt and worry. He should've gone after his brother. He knew that by the time he got help it might have been too late, but he had been upset and wasn't thinking clearly. Now Elladan was going to be the one to pay the price, while he couldn't do anything but sit around and wait.

The door to the hall creaked open and Elrohir quickly turned around, hoping to see the group of Rangers that had been sent out. Instead it was just the young boy who had been sent to deliver a message to a nearby house. Elrohir sighed again and turned back to face the window, straining his eyes for some sight of the returning Rangers.

A flash of lightening illuminated the area and Elrohir just managed to catch a glimpse of a large group of people before the light faded again. He ran over to the large door and pulled it open with his one good arm, ignoring the questions of the others as he raced outside. There, just around the corner of the building, was the group he had seen. They were the Rangers sent out to look for Elladan.

"Where is he?" he demanded. "Did you find him? Is he alright?"

The rangers in the front moved to the side, allowing Elrohir a clear view of his brother being carried on a makeshift litter. His heart skipped a beat as he saw Elladan lying there. He wasn't moving and he looked so pale. He quickly stepped closer and felt for a pulse. It was weak and erratic, but it was still there. Elladan was alive.

"Bring him inside!" Elrohir commanded. "Hurry!"

The hall quieted down as Elrohir led the group of Rangers inside, directing them over towards the fire where they carefully set down Elladan. Others were already bringing over blankets, herbs, and bandages. Elrohir began to inspect his brother's injuries while one of the Rangers explained how they had found him.

"He was in the middle of a battle when we got there," the Ranger said. "Not a moment too soon, I should say. He was badly outnumbered by the orcs, but had managed to kill many of them already, despite at least one nasty injury on his leg. He went down at some point during the battle, but we managed to fight our way over to him and keep him safe until the orcs were killed. He hasn't shown any signs of being poisoned and we treated his wounds as best as we could before returning here."

True to the Ranger's word, Elladan's wounds had been cleaned and hurriedly bandaged, but during the course of the travel back the bandages had gotten dirty and the wounds had some dirt and dust in them. Elrohir cleaned them out before carefully spreading some of their father's medicine over them that they had brought from Rivendell. He bandaged them up with strips of clean linen and pulled a couple of dry blankets over Elladan. Although the wounds themselves weren't fatal, Elrohir was worried that Elladan hadn't awoken yet. He tried to push away thoughts of blood loss and unknown poisons. He had down all he could do for his brother. Now, he could only wait.

Elrohir kept watch over his brother during the night, refusing food and drink, his eyes never leaving Elladan's still form. He refused to even think that the Rangers might have brought him back too late. Elladan was going to be alright- he had to be.

"When we make it through this, I swear I will never leave your side again," Elrohir vowed softly.

"Not your fault," a quiet voice murmured.

Elrohir started slightly and quickly looked down. Sure enough Elladan was finally awake, blinking his eyes against the bright light from the fire. Elrohir pulled him into a tight hug, being careful of his brother's wounds. "It is my fault," he said quietly as he pulled back. "I was the one who left you."

"And I was the one who was foolish enough to go running after the orcs when I knew I couldn't fight them all," Elladan pointed out.

Elrohir shook his head, but didn't say anything. He knew that they would always disagree on who was at fault, but right now he was simply glad that his brother was alive and well.

"One more thing," Elladan said, interrupting Elrohir's thoughts. "Don't tell Ada."


	11. Hanging On

**Disclaimer: I don't own any recognizable characters, places, etc.**

**A/N: I know, it's been too long! Over two years, in fact, and for that I apologize. I have no excuses either. I simply grew away from LotR for awhile and focused on other things. But to be honest I missed reading and writing about Middle Earth, really missed it, and I've slowly been working my way back into everything. And I figure what better way to really get back into writing fanfics than to return to this?**

**But more than that, I thought it was time to bring this story back to what it was really supposed to be- the twins, hunting orcs, and the negative consequences of that, not things that just happen to take place while they were hunting. I've been tossing this idea around for awhile, and I figured now was a good time to finally write it.**

The orcs moved quietly through the darkness, blending into the shadows and doing their best to soften the sounds of their heavy steps as they moved closer towards their intended victims. The elves were sleeping, exhausted from the earlier battle that they had won. It was that victory that had lulled them into the false sense of security that now allowed the orcs to sneak up on them.

One of them tripped on a rock, cursing as he tried to regain his balance. As if in response, one of the elves murmured in their sleep before rolling over and falling silent once more.

"Quiet!" their leader snapped. They were so close; he couldn't risk anyone ruining their element of surprise now. He held up his hand, signaling the others to halt, and watched the camp carefully. All was still, and the elves appeared to still be fast asleep. Good.

"Kill them," he ordered.

The orcs grinned as they crept closer to their sleeping prey, swords already drawn. The elvish scum would never know what hit them…

XXXXX

Elladan was not happy to be woken up. Worse, he didn't know why it was that he was awake. Perhaps he was still on edge from the battle earlier, though he had no doubt that all of the orcs had been killed. He nudged his brother, thinking that maybe Elrohir was awake and had tried to get his attention.

"Go to sleep, 'dan," Elrohir murmured, rolling away from his twin. He was exhausted, and simply wanted to rest.

Elladan felt his brother fall back asleep, though he himself could not find rest. Something was still bothering him, a faint sense that something wasn't quite right, but he too was exhausted. It had been a long day, and he heard nothing in the forest that should cause him to worry. His eyes glazed over as he started to doze once more.

And there it was again, that unidentifiable… _something_ that kept waking him up. But now, Elladan wasn't so sure that it was nothing to worry about. He kept still, hoping to figure out what was keeping him awake without letting it know that he no longer slept.

Now that he was fully awake, his keen ears could easily pick out the sound of something passing through the trees near where he and his brother had set up camp. He glanced over to his right just in time to see several dark shapes moving closer, their swords glinting in the moonlight.

Elladan lunged for his weapons, drawing his own sword as the orcs, realizing that they had lost the element of surprise, swarmed into camp. He blocked an attack from the first orc, stumbling over Elrohir who was only now reaching for his own weapons.

"Elrohir, are you alright?" Elladan yelled as he killed the orc he had been fighting with before turning to take on another.

"I'm fine, don't worry about me!" was the response and Elladan had no time to question it. As soon as he cut down one orc, two more stepped forward to take its place.

"Give up, elf!" One of the orcs growled as he swung his sword at Elladan's neck. "We ain't gonna stop 'til you both are dead!"

Elladan blocked the blow, and countered with one of his own. "Why?" he asked. Normally he didn't try to interrogate the creatures he was killing, but something about the situation seemed strange to him. Whatever was going on, this wasn't a random party of marauders; that much he knew.

To his surprise, the orc laughed and answered him. "Some of us have a bit of a problem with your killings, scum. And hunting elves is more fun than going after human-maggots."

Elladan scowled. He had heard enough. He quickly killed the orc and pushed what he said to the back of his mind as he focused on the battle once more. To his surprise, he found that there was no battle to speak of. All the orcs lay dead in the remains of what was once the twins' camp.

"I am not sleeping here tonight, Elrohir, so help me gather the bedrolls and packs so we can move out!" Elladan said as he quickly cleaned off the edge of his blade. There was no response to his call and Elladan paused to look around the camp. "Elrohir?" he called again, thinking that perhaps his brother had pursued the last of the orcs into the forest, but there was still no answer and he heard no sounds of fighting in the distance.

Elladan scanned the camp, his sharp eyes looking for any sign of what had happened to his brother. He was alarmed to see that most of the orcs had been felled around where he stood; only a smaller circle of bodies a few feet away marked where his brother had fought. What would have caused Elrohir's fight to be so short-lived?

Stepping carefully to avoid the many bodies that littered the area, Elladan searched for any sign of what happened to his twin but the area was too trampled from the orcs' feet. Doubtless if one of the Rangers were there they would be able to find something in the mess, but after years of hunting only orcs his tracking skills were greatly impaired. If Elrohir had fled, he was not sure he would be able to follow.

Finally, he saw a trail leading into the woods, one that not even he could miss. There, partially hidden amongst the destructive tracks of the orcs, was blood.

Elven blood.

Elladan stared at it for a moment, his heart refusing to believe that what his eyes saw was true. If he was reading the signs correctly, Elrohir had been wounded here and then retreated into the woods as his attackers pursued him. He couldn't track his brother, not at night and with so little to go on, but he could easily track the three or four orcs that followed him. Pausing only to grab his and Elrohir's packs, Elladan quickly set out into the forest, praying that he wasn't too late.

Elladan found the first body not that far into the forest. The orc had had its throat slashed; judging from the tracks, the others had simply continued their pursuit. Elrohir had at least been able to fight not too much earlier, and Elladan took hope in that as he continued to follow the trail of the orcs.

It wasn't long before he came across a second orc body, but it wasn't until Elladan passed the third that something caught his eye. There, on one of the trees, was a dark stain, a smear of blood. And not orc blood either.

Elladan felt his stomach lurch at the sight of it. Elrohir was losing a lot of blood, and Elladan was no longer sure what condition he would find his brother in. He ran the tips of his fingers along it, and they came away stained red. The blood was fresh; he wasn't that far behind, yet he feared he would still be too late.

He ran swiftly through the forest, keeping his eyes trained on the last set of orc tracks. He prayed that the dark creature had continued to pursue his brother; if it didn't, Elladan had little chance of finding his brother in the forest at night before it was too late.

Elladan was moving so fast that he almost tripped over the body of the fourth orc before he had a chance to stop. He looked around desperately for any sign of his brother, hoping that now that Elrohir was free of his pursuers he had stopped somewhere in the immediate vicinity. If he hadn't, Elladan had no way of finding him before-

His eyes caught a shadowed figure, nestled against the base of a tree. Elladan's heart skipped a beat and he raced over, kneeling next to the unmoving form of his brother. Elrohir's tunic was stained with blood, a gash across his abdomen showing where one of the orcs must have wounded him. His skin was pale, his chest still, and Elladan felt sick, sure that his brother was already dead, that he had failed him like he had failed his mother.

"Muindor nín..." He leaned forward, resting his forehead against his brother's and closing his eyes as his grief overwhelmed him. "No…"

Elladan felt a faint breath on his cheek and he opened his eyes, scanning his brother's face for a sign of life that he had missed. "Elrohir? Elrohir, can you hear me?"

"El'dan…?" The voice was faint, but to Elladan it was the best sound in the world. "Wha's… matter?"

"Oh thank the Valar." Elladan kissed his brother's forehead and grabbed his pack. "You're badly wounded Elrohir, and you've lost a lot of blood." Elrohir may still be alive, but there was no guarantee that he would remain so. Elladan knew he had to act quickly, or he truly would lose his brother.

"'m cold, El…" Elrohir murmured, his eyes slipping closed once more.

"Elrohir, stay with me!" Elladan snapped, fear racing through him even as he tried to reign in his emotions. He grabbed his knife, carefully but quickly cutting away Elrohir's tunic from the wound. It wasn't as deep as he had initially thought it was and luckily none of the organs were hit, but the blood loss was still considerable and it wasn't clotting as it should. Elladan wasn't sure how much more blood his brother could lose and he grabbed the bandages from his pack, applying pressure to the wound and trying to stop the flow of blood.

Elrohir tried to shy away from his brother's touch, biting back a moan. "Hurts," he whispered, gritting his teeth.

"I know and I'm sorry, but I have to get the bleeding under control." Elladan held the bandage in place with one hand, rummaging through his pack with the other. He wasn't convinced that there wasn't poison in the wound, and if that was the case he needed to get some sort of antidote into his brother's system as soon as possible. His fingers closed around two small vials and he pulled them out; both were general antidotes that worked on most orc poisons, developed by the twins years before to use in emergencies.

Elladan uncorked one with his teeth and held it up to his brother's mouth. "Drink this."

With his help, Elrohir was able to swallow the antidote. Elladan peeled the bandages back from the wound and, after uncorking the second vial, tipped some of its contents onto the wound. Elrohir jerked as it made contact, unable to stop the moan of pain.

"Goheno nín, Elrohir," Elladan said softly. He hated to cause his brother more pain, no matter how necessary it may be. "I'm so sorry."

"I know muindor nín," Elrohir whispered, exhaling slowly, raggedly. "I know…"

Elladan bit his lip and checked his brother's wound again. The bleeding was finally starting to slow down, and he wet a rag, starting to clean away the blood. There was so much of it, far too much, but he needed to see the injury clearly before he could do anything. The edges of it were jagged and Elladan knew it would require stitches just to hold it close.

Elrohir cried out as he carefully cleaned inside the wound, but Elladan needed to be sure that there wasn't any dirt or grime in it before he closed it. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry…" he repeated as he doused the wound with the rest of the antidote; it seemed to be the only thing he could say, yet he knew it wasn't enough.

He pulled a small needle out of a pouch in his pack and threaded it. "I'm sorry Elrohir, but I can't give you anything for the pain. You're too weak and you've lost too much blood. I can't risk it."

"I know," Elrohir whispered. "Just do it."

Elladan hesitated for a split-second, before carefully piercing the edge of the wound with the needle. Elrohir hissed in pain, too weak to even try to act stoic as Elladan made small, precise stitches across his abdomen. He finally cut the thread and knotted it as close to the skin as possible, wrapping a clean bandage around the wound to protect the stitches before sitting back on his heels. There was nothing else he could do for his brother now.

He stood shakily, suddenly aware of his own exhaustion, though Elladan knew he would find no rest in the near future. If Elrohir made it to the morning he would have a slightly better chance of survival, but Elladan wouldn't relax until the next 24 hours had passed without any complications. He spread out one of the bedrolls and helped move Elrohir over to it, tucking his own still-folded bedroll under his brother's head as a makeshift pillow.

With a sigh he settled down next to Elrohir, resting his hand on his brother's chest so he could feel it rise and fall with each breath, and resigning himself to a long, sleepless night.


End file.
